God
by SummerParamour
Summary: A series of very short drabbles that depict the adventures of Sam and Dean Winchester, the angel Castiel, and God - who happens to be a woman.
1. I Am God

**God appears**

* * *

Castiel was staring. He often stared, he'd realized, but never like this. This was not normal staring. This was shocked staring. Castiel was shocked. Of course, he wasn't the only one. Sam and Dean were staring, too. That made Castiel glad. He knew he wasn't the only one seeing it now.

Before the three stood a woman. She was small, with long brunette hair and golden eyes. Her face – though defined – was oddly innocent, yet held great wisdom. She blinked slowly, as if unused to the sensation. At her sides, her fingers flexed, and she gazed down at them curiously. Her auspicious eyes shifted to the toes on her feet, wiggling against the shaggy green carpet of the cheesy motel Sam and Dean were currently staying at. She smiled a brilliant smile, and wiggled both her fingers and toes at the same time.

Tentatively, the woman took a step forward. She wobbled slightly, but grinned in delight when she managed to stay on her feet. Castiel was fascinated with the woman. Though he'd never met her in his long, long life, she felt familiar.

"It has been a very long time since I have shaped myself in this form…" the woman giggled, looking up at the three men in front of her. "Castiel, Dean, Sam," she uttered with a curt nod to each of them. "We finally meet face to face."

They were silent, continuing to gaze upon this woman with their jaws dropped.

"Oh, I suppose it is human custom for one to introduce herself before speaking of things of importance," the woman smiled, tugging at the edge of the tunic covering her body. The contrast between it and her dark hair stunned all three men. "I am God."

* * *

**A/N: Alright, so this is the beginning of a very simple, slightly AU series of drabbles. Much of it does not follow the show's original plot, but that's the way I liked it. I'm afraid none of these have been read by a third party, because my normal Beta-Reader does not watch Supernatural. I have gone over them personally, but I tend to... miss things. **

**IF ANY OF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN BETA-READING, PLEASE CONTACT ME!  
**

**Anyways, I rather like this little story here. I was looking for a bit of a Castiel outlet, as I'm working on another story for another fandom and he was distracting me. I just kind of wrote this to get him out of my system until after I've finished the other one. This has been finished for the most part (I'm still debating on a few scenarios) so updates should come quickly.  
**

**The length of each piece varies, though none of them are more than 1,500 words. I believe those that are the shortest are about 200. I originally intended for this to be humorous, but it ended up being one-third humor, one-third angst, and one-third family.  
**

**Anyways, thanks for reading! :D  
**


	2. New York

**Castiel asks God a few questions that he has**

* * *

Castiel stood with God, watching as her eyes gracefully sifted across the view of the New York City. The city below lit the night brilliantly, and car horns could be heard blaring from the many streets crisscrossing the vast area. God seemed exulted to be witnessing such a thing. It caused wild vines of curiosity to sprout within Castiel's being.

"I have never walked Earth, Castiel," God uttered, her voice soft. "I thought it unwise to walk among my most wonderful creation."

"Why do you come now?" Castiel found himself asking.

God's smile was gentle. "This world is at peace," she closed her eyes against the gentle breeze. "I am not here to save you, only to view. You must solve your problems without me."

"Asking for help is not a sin."

"No, it is not, but too much help makes one lazy." God's gaze shifted from the city to the angel standing at her side. "One day, I shall not be here. The humans must learn to solve their problems on their own, before I fade from existence."

Castiel pursed his lips and looked away from her. Another question met his mind, though he was still trying to understand God's answer to his last one. It did not seem the proper time to ask.

"Questions are encouraged, Castiel."

His gaze shifted to her again. She was more mystifying than he'd ever thought God would be.

"We label you as our father, yet you are…"

God smiled. She understood. "The definition of the word 'father' is 'one who has originated or established something'. I am father to all of my creations, despite my gender."

"I understand," Castiel nodded.

And then the two stood in silence, overlooking the city until the sun began to rise.

* * *

**A/N: This is one of those parts that ended up NOT being humorous... **

**Thanks for reading! :D  
**


	3. Affection

**God wonders why Dean calls his car _she_...**

* * *

God sat in the passenger seat of the Impala, her thin fingers fluttering across the buttons and dials on the dash. Curiosity was splayed across her delicate features. She had seen little in her short time on Earth, and this was one of the most peculiar things she had come across. She was fascinated by the glowing runes that changed after the same amount of time, and the things in the glove compartment were strange.

Dean pulled open the door and slid into the driver's seat, watching God as she examined everything in the car.

"You have a fascinating mode of transportation, Dean," God muttered as she poked one of the many buttons beneath the glowing runes.

Dean pulled his lips into a cocky half-smile. "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

God's brow furrowed in confusion. "How does one distinguish a male from a female?"

"Oh, um, no," Dean blinked. He had a hard time believing God was that oblivious. "Cars don't have genders."

"Then why do you call it 'she'?"

Dean thought for a moment. He wasn't sure how to answer her strange question. "I dunno… I'm attached?"

God's head cocked to the side. "I shall remember that humans refer to things they believe important as a female."


	4. Sleep

**Castiel ponders why God sleeps...**

* * *

Castiel watched the steady rise and fall of God's chest. Her eyes were closed over her exuberant eyes, and her face was relaxed and innocent. She did not sleep like Sam and Dean did. Sam always slept on his stomach with one arm dangling off the side, while Dean slept with his limbs spread wide and his sheets wrapped around his middle. God slept with her arms at her sides and her legs straight. She never moved or spoke like Sam and Dean did, either.

Castiel did not sleep, and did not understand what the humans saw in it. To him, turning off your body sounded like a terrible idea. You could not stop someone from destroying you if you were unconscious. Luckily, he was there to watch over the three who chose to succumb to the odd habit.

He had seen God sleep many times by now. Surely she did not need it, like Sam and Dean assumed they did. He'd occasionally wondered why she did. However, the question slipped his mind by the time the three woke, and God could not read his thoughts and see that he was holding a question back while she was asleep.

Despite the fact that he thought it unwise, he enjoyed viewing the three. On occasion, he would take a look and see what Sam and Dean dreamed of. It was often something horrific, though he'd see a memory every now and then. He didn't dare enter God's mind, though. It would be disrespectful to do so without her permission.

Castiel adjusted himself in his chair, and continued to watch her for the rest of the night, wondering what sort of things God – creator of all – dreamed of.


	5. Monopoly

**God does not understand Monopoly...**

* * *

"I do not understand," God said with a frown set on her defined face. "If we are bartering for land, should it not be present in some shape or form?"

"It is not real land," Castiel mumbled, staring intently at the card in his hand. He caught a glance of God's confused expression. "I found it simplest to pretend to understand."

God nodded, and paid close attention as to learn to play this game of trading and purchasing fake land.

* * *

"I believe you have landed on my homestead, Dean," God said, staring into his hazel eyes. "You shall be hung."

The brothers sighed, shaking their heads, and stood, deciding that it was impossible to teach heavenly beings to play board games.


	6. Soda

**Sam introduces God to soda...**

* * *

God stared at the tin can in her petite hand. He eyes rolled over the red design scrolled on it, and blinked slowly at the runes scribed in black. It was heavy, filled with a liquid that hissed at her.

"This seems dangerous, Samuel."

Sam smiled beside her. "It's perfectly safe," he mumbled. "Trust me."

God glanced up at him. She trusted this man. So, she raised the can to her lips and took a gulp of the caramel liquid.

A cough erupted from her, causing her to jerk in her seat. It had burned her throat! Samuel had not told her of this burning sensation.

"Jesus Christ, don't chug it!" Dean shouted from the other side of the room, where he was watching the scene unfold with interest.

"My son has naught to do with this foul oil!" God shouted, dropping the can onto the table in front of her. "My trust in you is diminished, Samuel."

"Just take small sips," Sam grabbed the can and drank from it, coming out unscathed. He handed the can back to God, and she glared at the remaining liquid. It continued to hiss sinisterly.

God mentally ordered the can to be kind, and then took a 'sip'. Samuel had given good advice. It did not burn her this time, but instead made her tongue tingle gleefully.

"See?" Sam asked with a grin, his white teeth momentarily flashing in the dim light of the motel room. "Coke isn't so bad, is it?"

"I suppose not… But I still do not understand how this drink could make one think of Jesus."


	7. Music

**God learns a little about all of the aspects of the Impala..**

* * *

Castiel and God sat in the back seat of the Impala, while Dean was sliding into the driver's seat and Sam was beside him in the passenger seat. Castiel, accustomed to ridding in the vehicle, reached back to pull the seatbelt across his shoulder. God watched curiously, and then did as her heavenly counterpart had done.

"I do not understand the use of these irritating straps," she said.

"Humans believe they save lives when one crashes their vehicle."

"Dean will not crash her, will he?"

Dean adjusted the rearview mirror to look at God. "Did you just call my baby 'her'?"

"I have become attached, Dean Winchester," she nodded.

He grinned, and then twisted the key, the car roaring to life.

God reached out and grasped the sleeve of Castiel's trench coat. "What beast chases us, Castiel?" she asked, her eyes wide. "Why does it shake her?"

"I believe that is the sound and motion of the engine," Castiel informed her. "It is normal."

God gave a sigh, and released his sleeve. Then, she turned her head and looked out the window as Dean backed up and started to pull out of the parking lot. She enjoyed the odd sensation of 'driving', as Sam had explained the term. Things moved past her quickly, and left her curious as to what they were.

Suddenly, sound began blaring from the walls of the vehicle. God did not think it to be dangerous, but she did find herself wanting to know what it was. She listened to it for a moment to see if she could identify it without the boys. There was a man speaking, able to be heard above the rest of the sounds. There were crashes, and wails, and bangs that God did not recognize. She soon found herself incapable, and turned to Castiel.

"What is this sound?"

"Good ol' rock and roll!" Dean crowed from the front seat. He began shouting along with the man whose voice came from the walls. God was still confused.

"It is music," Castiel explained, seeing the ignorance on God's face.

God nodded. "But what is its purpose?"

"It does not have one, if I understand what I have been told," he shrugged. "I have seen many humans use it as a source of entertainment."

"Is all of it this loud?"

The music ceased, and God looked to see Sam pushing a button beneath the glowing runes. Dean snarled at him, but he ignored his elder brother to turn and smile at God. "No, it's not."


	8. Church

**Castiel shows God how much her children love her...**

* * *

God stood in the back of a large room. Before her, hundreds of people sat and listened to a man in black robes, a white sash slung around his shoulders. There was a familiar symbol hung on the wall behind the man. It was a cross. She recognized it as the shape on which her son had been nailed to. She did not understand why someone would wish to gaze upon that horrid symbol.

"Where are we, Castiel?" God asked, tearing her gaze from the cross and turning it to the angel by her side. She paid no attention to the few humans who turned to her with glares on their faces.

"This is a place of worship, and some come seeking sanctuary," Castiel whispered in response. "It is called a church."

God was about to ask another question when she heard her name mentioned by the man in the robes. He was speaking of a child who had been in a car accident. He shared the child's name – Nicholas – and stated that the boy would most likely not live to see another year.

"Let us pray, and hope the Lord sees fit to save his son," the man said, raising his arms and closing his eyes.

God watched as the heads of the people before her bowed, their eyes closed. Then, the man spoke again.

"Our Father in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen."

The crowd of people echoed his final word, and then their heads rose. None of them realized that their Father was not in heaven, nor had she ever been. They did not see that she was among them, listening to their words. Never had her belief that she had created something beautiful in the humans been so strong.

She spun on her heel, and strode out of the room. She did not appear on the other side, though. Instead, she stood in the middle of a busy hallway. White was all around her. There were white walls and floors, and people wearing white coats. She did not favor it, but what she favored did not matter at that moment. Instead of fretting over the lack of life, she stepped across the hall and through the door that stood there ominously.

Now she was in a small room. There still was not much color. A blue chair sat beside a bed as white as the hallway. A mop of long, blond hair stuck out from beneath the blankets. She stepped forward, staring at the young boy with sadness written on her face.

The boy could not have been older than seven. His face was pale, and a bandage was wrapped around the base of his jaw. A tube ran beneath his nose. Other than the slow rising motion of the boy's small chest, there was no sign of life.

God felt Castiel's presence behind her, and hardly offered him a glance.

Her attention was fully on the boy now. She reached out and ran her thin fingers through his hair, pulling it away from his forehead. She allowed her fingers to rest upon his scalp, and used her thumb to stroke a small piece of his blond tresses. Warmth flowed from her fingertips, and she leaned over to press a gentle kiss to the skin above his brow.

"Be safe, little one," she whispered in his ear, knowing that he would hear it despite his unconscious state.

After several moments, she stood, removed her hand from the child's hair, and went to Castiel's side.

"Time to go, Castiel."

And then the two disappeared as the boy's eyes flew open, and a gasp raced through him.


	9. Dreams

**God visits Sam and Dean's dreams...**

* * *

God stared curiously at the back of Dean's head. He was not aware that she was behind him, completely immersed in the sunset before him.

She could not help but wonder if all humans dreamed of this sort of thing. Dean, sitting on the hood of his beloved Impala, was drinking what God had learned was titled 'beer' and watching a glorious sunset. She could understand watching the sun slowly fall behind the horizon of mountains, but the vehicle and alcoholic drink were lost on her.

God had dreams of her own, of course. Hers were very different, however. She dreamed of her humans, and her dreams were far more vivid than that of which she currently stood in. The sound here was rather muted, and the colors were nowhere near as bright.

With one last glance at Dean, God shifted minds. Now, she found herself gazing upon Samuel.

This dream was very different from Dean's. It was dark and cold. She found herself in an alley, rain pouring down on her head. She could've easily kept herself dry, but God enjoyed the feeling of the sharp drops colliding with her skin. Sam, though, did not appear to enjoy it as much as her.

She frowned when her golden eyes landed on him. He was curled in on himself against one of the brick walls. His head, soaked from the rain, was between his knees. One of his arms was bent behind his head, and the other one was wrapped tightly around his ankles.

God's heart ached for him. He was in pain. He was a prisoner to his own mind. She wondered how many of her children felt the way Samuel did. How many of them screamed inside their head, begging to be freed? How many wanted to be loved, forgiven, or forgotten?

With a heavy heart, God extracted herself from Samuel's mind, and returned to her own. Upon reentering her body, she heard the steady breathing of the three men around her, Samuel and Dean's only slightly more relaxed than Castiel's. She knew he was the only one whose eyes remained open and vigilant.

"Castiel, how many of them suffer?" she asked, her eyes slowly opening. "Have I been negligent of their pain?"

She could hear the thoughts going through his mind. Finally, it settled on one.

"Many of them create their own painful paths," he mumbled. "and even you could not save all of them. That is the price they pay for the beauty of emotions."

God felt her pride for this particular son swell, and then she nodded.

"Goodnight, Castiel."


	10. Snow Angels

**Sam shows God what a snow angel is...**

* * *

The group had split up today. Dean and Castiel had gone to the local university to as some mythology professor about some Pagan god. This left Samuel and God to get supplies to summon the thing. After a vast amount of research, they'd discovered several different methods that all used the same household items. They just needed the supplies and to know which method was correct.

God didn't ask where they were, but it was snowing there. Little white pieces of cold material fell to the ground from the overcast sky.

A question dug its heels into God's mind.

"Samuel, where does snow come from?"

Sam paused in his stride, attempting to get a better grip on the paper bag wrapped in his arms.

"Um, it forms in the clouds. It's really just frozen water droplets," he explained.

"Yes, but why does it fall from Heaven?"

"Heaven is actually in the sky? I thought it would be on another planet or something."

God looked at him as if her were insane. "Why would Heaven be on another planet, Samuel? It only harbors the souls of those passed from Earth."

Sam blushed. "Oh, um, I don't know," he mumbled, staring down into the paper bag. "I just figured that, since we've been up there and we haven't seen Heaven, that it would be somewhere else."

"No," God shook her head violently. "Heaven is only accessible by two forms of beings: fallen humans and Angels."

"Oh..." Sam blushed, though God did not fully understand why. She had simply explained to him; why should he be ashamed?

Together, the two walked past a park, the dying grass hidden by a white blanket of snow. God's eyes sifted over it, catching on a small group of children. Bells of laughter were carried on the wind. One of them fell backwards, and God watched curiously as the small form's arms and legs shifted and pushed the snow aside.

"Samuel," God mumbled, her eyes glued to the child. "what is that little human doing?"

Sam followed God's gaze, and smiled at the sight.

"I think she's making a snow angel."

God's brow furrowed.

"What is a snow angel?"

Sam grinned, and set the bag on the salted sidewalk they stood on. He reached out and grabbed her hand, tugging her out into the field. He smiled at her once more, and then fell backwards. God's first reaction was to reach out and stop him. Of course, she sensed that he had fallen on purpose, and managed to keep her arm from flying out and holding him up.

Once on the ground, he started moving his arms and legs as the child had done. After several times repeating these motions, he sat and pulled himself back onto his feet. He then looked down at the shape he'd imprinted in the snow.

"That's a snow angel," he said.

Samuel picked up the bag, and started walking once more. God glanced at the shape one last time before following him, leaving behind his snow angel.


	11. Dancing

**Dean teaches God how to dance...**

* * *

God watched curiously as Dean made odd, jerky movements with his arms to the 'beat' of the music pounding through their motel room. She had seen him do similar, smaller things while driving, but never had he done this. The motions intrigued her. She wondered how doing such a thing would be of benefit.

"Dean," she started after several moments of watching, "what are you doing?"

"Dancing!" he cackled giddily.

"Dancing…" God repeated the word thoughtfully. "I would very much like to attempt 'dancing,' Dean."

Dean bounced over to her, though she expected that this bouncing motion was a part of dancing. He held out his hand to her, and she took it appreciatively after noting to bounce. Then, he pulled her to an area of the room that was clear of furniture, and released her petite hand.

"Alright, let's start with something simple," Dean said, "The Shopping Cart."

He then proceeded to take a few steps forward, his balled hands held out in front of him. Then, his right hand reached for the air in front of him. His wrist bent, and his arm swung downwards before returning to its previously balled position in front of him. He then repeated these steps, but he moved his left hand instead of his right.

"Alright, now you try."

God mimicked him.

"Not bad."

Continuing her movement, God asked, "Why is it called 'the Shopping Cart?'"

"Because it makes you look like the president," Dean said, his voice thick with sarcasm. God, of course, did not recognize sarcasm.

"What does the leader of a powerful country have to do with dancing?"

Dean turned off the music and shook his head with a sigh. "This is why church is so boring…"

"Sorry?"

Another sigh. "Nevermind…"


	12. Kissing

**Castiel does not know how to explain kissing...**

* * *

God and Castiel sat upon a rickety wooden bench. There was an asphalt path in front of them, and a plaza across that. Children ran and laughed, their parents following them with smiles on their faces. God had watched this group of people for a very long time. She'd found a pattern in her children. When it came to humans, parents were nearly always smiling while chasing their offspring.

After a while, something God had not seen before caught her eye. A young man and a young woman were embracing across the plaza. The young man wore clothes with spots of green and brown, as well as large boots and some sort of hat. The woman wore jeans (much like the pair God was wearing) and a T-shirt.

The two stood like that for a decent amount of time. God did not understand why. Then she found herself even more confused when they separated and pushed their mouths together.

"Castiel," God began, cocking her head as she continued to watch the couple. "Of what benefit is that?"

Castiel looked up from his hands, and followed her gaze. His face flushed momentarily. He'd never thought he would have to explain this to her.

"Um… The humans use it as a means to show affection," he uttered. He felt awkward, which was a sensation he hardly ever felt.

God nodded, and Castiel thankfully went back to examining his vessel's hands. He never got bored with them. The lines on his palm were enough to keep him distracted for hours on end.

"Castiel?"

He sighed, and his eyes shifted to God once more. He hardly had time to register her movements before she pressed her lips against his. It was brief, and Castiel thanked the holy spirits for that. However, it still shocked him. His shock wavered when she patted his arm and rose to her feet.

Castiel reached out and snatched her wrist. "Where are you going?"

"I wish to show Samuel and Dean my affection for them, as well," she said with certainty in her voice.

He pulled his creator back onto the bench, once more feeling his vessel's face flush. "That act shows a much more… meaningful kind of affection," He stated, his blue eyes shifting to the asphalt path in front of them.

"I do not understand."

He sighed. He did not feel he was expressing this correctly. "Humans feel love –"

"As do I, Castiel."

"Yes, but this is a different kind of love," he reached up and ran his hand over his face. "For many humans, to be in love means to mate."

God finally understood. "I apologize for my actions, Castiel," she muttered as her eyes widened. "I do not wish to mate with you."

Castiel nodded, but avoided God's gaze. "Perhaps we should return to Sam and Dean…"

God nodded in agreement, and the two quickly returned to the dirty motel room on the other side of the continent.


	13. How I Met Your Mother

**God doesn't understand that TV isn't real...**

* * *

"Alright, I got the fricken pizza!" Dean shouted as he somehow managed to open the door to the motel room with said pizza in one arm and a bottle of whiskey in the other. He tromped inside the room, kicking the door shut with his foot. He quickly scrambled to drop everything he was carrying onto the small table.

Sam immediately got up and ran over, throwing the box open and snatching a piece of pizza.

"Where's God? Pizza was her idea…" Dean grumbled.

"Dude, she's watching _How I Met Your Mother_," Sam said before taking a large bite of his pizza and looking over at where God sat, her face barely inches from the TV screen.

Dean's hazel eyes shifted to her, and he abandoned the thought of pizza as he started towards her.

"Hey," he muttered, sitting beside her and pulling her face away from the screen a bit.

"Hello, Dean," she nodded, offering him nothing more than a quick glance before returning to the show.

"So… Do you get half of the jokes they're tossing around?"

God's eyes narrowed much as Castiel's did when he was either confused or focused on something. "I do not understand much of it, if that is what you are referring to," she glanced at him again. "I do, however, realize that this man, Barney, has sinned very heavily. I am certain he will not have a place in Heaven."

Dean rolled his eyes, deciding that explaining to God that 'Barney' was a fictional character would wait for another day.


	14. Water

**Dean and Sam argue which is better, _Bruce_ or _Evan Almighty_...**

* * *

"_Bruce Almighty_, Sammy!" Dean exclaimed. "I'm telling you, sequels are never good!"

God was lost on Samuel and Dean's argument. They were hotly debating who was better, Bruce or Evan. As she did not know either of these men, she did not contribute to the battle. Of course, she listened intently. Perhaps she could form an opinion based on their supporting details?

"Oh, c'mon, Dean, listen to yourself," Samuel muttered reasonably. "Jim Carrey _or Steve Carell_? There's no contest."

"Yeah, Jim Carrey wins every time! Plus, God walks on water in_ Bruce Almighty_, Sammy," Dean's eyes, filling with curiosity, shifted to view God through the rearview mirror. "Can you do that?"

God's brow furrowed, and she said, "I do not remember trying."

Dean smirked, and craned his neck to see through the window on Samuel's side of the car. He pulled the Impala to the side of the road and quickly hopped out. Samuel and God followed. There was a deep rut beside the road, water filling it to the brim due to the large amount of rain this area had gotten within the last few weeks.

"Wish I had popcorn," Dean mumbled to himself, rubbing his large, callused hands together in anticipation.

God took a step forwards, viewing her reflection for a few moments. She always found seeing herself odd. After shaking her head at her appearance, she tentatively stepped and placed her foot on the surface of the water. Her opposite foot slowly joined the one already sitting on the calm pool. She did not sink, as she'd seen many humans do.

God shuffled her feet, creating ripples. "This is an odd sensation."

"Dude," Dean started, slapping his brother's arm and gaining God's attention. "Morgan Freeman would be jealous."


	15. Shaving

**God asks Dean about shaving...**

* * *

God stood in the doorway, watching Dean as he pulled a razor down his chin, clearing the slight shadow on his jaw. God had seen Samuel do the same, and even Castiel had completed the odd task at one time or another. If the three of them had to do it, why didn't she?

"Dean," she started, "what are you doing?"

He didn't even look away from the mirror as he mumbled, "Shaving."

"And it is to remove unnecessary hairs from your face?"

"Um... Yeah."

"Why do I not have to shave?"

Dean glanced at her, amusement shinning in his eyes.

"You're a woman," was his simple answer.

God's brow furrowed.

"Women do not shave? Why not?"

Dean sighed. "Because they get hair in different places."

"Where?"

"Um, chicks shave their legs."

"Dean, there is hair on your legs as well. Why do you not shave them?"

"Because I'm a dude, and dudes don't shave their legs."

This confused God even more.

"I do not understand, Dean."

Dean sighed again. "Sammy, come explain shaving to God!"

The only response was the sound of Sam's laughter, which ceased after a door slammed shut.

* * *

**REVIEW RESPONSES**

_AEDReaper:_**  
**

__Thanks very much! I'm glad you're enjoying it! Oh, and thanks a bunch for the review! :D

_IvoryRoses:  
_**  
**Ah, thank you very much!

I tried really hard to keep this from becoming a romance, and to keep it more of a father(?)/son relationship between all of the included characters. I thought it was about time I challenged myself to do something other than my normal...

I'm glad you're enjoying it so much! Thanks for the review! :D


	16. Father's Day

**Castiel celebrates Father's Day...**

* * *

"Dean, Sam, I require your assistance," Castiel said as he loudly appeared in the motel room.

"Dammit, Cas!" Dean shouted as he jumped.

After glancing apologetically (at least he felt it was apologetic) at Dean, Castiel's blue eyes shifted to the bed that God was sleeping on. Thankfully, it did not cause her to wake. She did not even shift beneath the covers. That was good. Castiel did not want her to listen to his thoughts while he spoke with his charge.

"Dean, the matter I wish to speak to you about is urgent," he said, his eyes returning to Dean.

The look of anger on Dean's face disappeared, and shifted to one of concern. "What's up, Cas?"

"I need to obtain a 'gift,'" he said, nodding confidently.

"Who for? And _why_…?"

Castiel's eyes once more moved to God. "I believe what humans call 'Father's Day' is approaching."

Dean's brow jumped. "You wanna get God a _Father's Day present_?"

"Yes, Dean, that is what I wish."

"What did you have in mind?" Sam finally spoke, looking up from the large book in his lap.

Castiel looked to him. "I do not understand your question."

"Oh, um, I mean, was there something in particular that you wanted to get her?"

"No, that is why I've come to you," he said.

Sam nodded, folded the book, and set it aside. He stood, snatching his jacket from the back of the chair he'd previously been sitting in.

"Alright, let's go shopping."

* * *

"See anything?"

"Yes, Sam, I see many things, but I do not see how that is relevant to finding a suitable gift," Castiel answered Sam's odd question, his brow furrowing over his bright blue eyes, which were swamping with frustration. He had not thought that finding something for his Father would be so challenging.

"No, I mean do you see anything you think God would like?" Sam reworded his question, and Castiel found it much easier to understand.

Castiel shook his head. "No," he mumbled, flicking a small glass bottle filled with a bright pink liquid. The bottle was labeled 'nail polish.' "Why would God wish to have any of these things?"

Sam blushed. Now that he thoughts about it, he didn't really understand why he'd thought God _would_ want anything on the shelves before them. She wasn't human, and she'd never had her nails painted, or her hair done, or worn designer clothes.

"Think, Cas," Sam said, grabbing the angel by the arm and gently tugging him out of the cosmetics aisle of the nearest Wal-Mart, "what kind of things does God enjoy?"

Castiel's lips pressed together as he thought. "She enjoys humans," he answered.

"Anything more specific?"

Castiel took another few moments to think. "Food she has not had before," he nodded confidently.

Sam smiled. "Alright, let's go look in the food aisles, then."

* * *

Castiel appeared in the motel room days later, two packages held in his hands, one of them flat and square, and the other cylindrical. They were wrapped in newspaper and topped with ribbons. Sam had helped him with the wrapping. He did not understand the point behind it, though. Sam told him it was to make sure the gift was a surprise. Castiel had never understood surprises; he thought it was best to be prepared.

He stalked across the room and held the packages out to God, who was staring at him with confusion on her pale face.

"Happy Father's Day," he said simply.

God's head tilted to the side. "What is Father's Day?"

"I have found this it is one day set aside in each year that humans take to thank their fathers for life," he explained.

"And what are these?" she asked, gingerly taking the packages from Castiel's gently grip.

"They are what humans call 'presents.'"

Holding the two, God flipped and shook them. "What are they for?"

"There are things inside," he said. "You must remove the wrappings. I do not personally understand, but Sam said it was customary."

On the other side of the room, Sam rolled his eyes and went back to the book he'd been going over for the past few days. Dean, however, had abandoned his research to watch the unfolding scene with extreme interest.

With a nod, God began to carefully peel the tape away from the newspaper, slowly opening the round package. Across the room, Dean was getting impatient. He'd always hated paper-savers.

"Just rip it!" he shouted, causing God to jump and tear the paper.

She frowned, but shook it off as she pulled the paper away and lifted a Styrofoam cup from the now crumpled wrappings. It was white, with blue symbols and writing printed on the side. The top was sealed with a piece of paper, which also bore the blue symbols and runes.

"What is it?" she asked, rolling the cup in her hands. She could feel something shifting within it.

"It is a type of noodle, I believe," Castiel explained, folding his arms behind his back. He reached out and gently took it from her small hands. "'Add water and put in microwave for two minutes.'"

A smile spread across God's face. "That is wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, Castiel."

He nodded. "The other one is from Sam."

Her golden eyes shifted to Samuel. She offered him a smile, and then began to peel the paper away as slowly as the other gift.

"You _rip_ the goddamn paper!" Dean shouted once more.

Her brow furrowed, angry that he had used her name in an offensive manner. "You are not to say that anymore, Dean," she chastised him. "However, I shall tear the paper, as it seems so important that I do."

So, she ripped into the package. This one was harder to open, as everything was pressed flat, unlike the first gift. She only managed to tear through the paper when she used one of her fingernails to scratch through. Then, she pulled a rectangular, plastic case from the ruined paper. Behind the plastic was a photograph of a street, a white building in the middle. Four men stood in the window of the building with instruments.

"It's a CD," Sam said, smiling at God. "I thought you might want to hear something other than Led Zeppelin."

God recognized the name as the musical group that Dean constantly played while driving. Though she enjoyed Dean's music, she was excited to hear other kinds. Perhaps this was the non-loud music that Samuel had told her about when she'd first discovered music.

"Thank you, Samuel," she nodded to him. "And thank you as well, Castiel. Your gifts are much appreciated."

The group ended the night by making God's cup of noodles, and torturing Dean with the CD full of what Sam had told Castiel and God was 'folk music.'


	17. Imperfections

**Castiel asks God if she loves the humans more than the angels...**

* * *

Castiel's head rested upon God's shoulder. Her thin fingers gently weaved through his hair as she cradled his head protectively, like a mother willing her shaken son back to sleep. He found her steady breathing relaxing, and understood why Dean would miss his mother.

A question had been buzzing in his mind for a large portion of the day, but he was too afraid to disturb the peace between them to ask.

"Castiel," God uttered in his ear. "I wish you would learn that I enjoy your questions."

He closed his eyes, focusing on the vibrations of her voice within her chest. He didn't want to ask, and decided to pretend not to hear her.

"Castiel, I do not like to be ignored."

He sighed. "I did not want to disturb the peace..."

"Consider it disturbed."

"The humans," Castiel began, realizing it was futile to hold it back any longer. "Do you favor them over us?"

God sighed, her chest heaving beneath his head. "I love all of my children, but the humans are special. There is a long story behind their creation, Castiel."

"I am willing to listen," Castiel mumbled.

With another sigh, God began telling her story.

"Long ago, when I was young and naive, one of my first creations were you and your siblings. I molded you in the image of my father, as any good child should. You were strong and valiant, and incredibly obedient. My father praised me for your creation, and I saw your perfection.

"As many years passed, I found myself questioning my father's view of perfect. He had created me as a perfect soldier; I was emotionless and fierce, as I had created my children to be. I loved you all the same, but you were no longer perfect in my mind.

"So, I began forming the humans. I gave them flaws and individuality - things I'd never considered important until then. I gave them happiness, anger, and sorrow. I gave them the ability to think for themselves and question me. I was convinced that they're imperfection was what _made_them perfect.

"My brothers and sisters shunned me for creating them. They thought it ill of me to bring something so susceptible to hatred and violence into existence. The only thing that stopped them from destroying both humans and angels - this entire world - was the law against it, created by my father to instill peace. However, nothing could stop my family from exiling me from my home. Since then, I have watched over my sons and daughters, loving their imperfections more and more each day."

The first thing Castiel noticed was the strange similarities between himself and God. He would never assume that they were at the same level, but he found that they were alike in many ways. Both had dared to be different, to go against their father for what they thought right. Both had been exiled, cut off from their home. Castiel wondered if God would one day be accepted once more, as he eventually had been.

Then he pondered what God had said about perfection. It was an odd opinion, but he could not help but to think it wise. Most of what she said was.

"I am very proud of you, Castiel," God said, interrupting the angel's train of thought. "You are one of my wisest, most open-minded sons."

Castiel couldn't help but to smile. God - the 'father' he had wanted to please since creation - had complimented him.

* * *

**A/N: I just wanted to say that I had my fears about this chapter. It was one of the earlier ones I'd written, and now that I look at it, it kind of bugs me. Still, I figured I'd post it. Just give you a little more insight about who God really is.**


	18. Pie

**God eats pie...**

* * *

God and Dean sat in a nearly empty Bakers Square. Dean, as usual, had a slice of apple pie on the plate in front of him. God had the same, having never had any of the dishes on the menu Dean had read to her.

"Pie," Dean had told her. "You can never go wrong with pie."

So, God had ordered pie. Of course, she found the dessert interesting. Every time she discovered something new, she wanted to learn about or try it. She'd heard Dean speak very highly of pie many times before, so she was particularly excited about it.

"Here ya are," their waitress, a tall and rather anorexic looking woman with a southern accent, had said as she set the plates in front of them. She'd then proceeded away from their table.

So, God stared at her plate with interest. Things she recognized as "apple" slices spilled out the sides of a triangular shaped piece of "crust." She poked it tentatively with the utensil she'd come to know as a fork.

"It's not going to eat itself," Dean mumbled as he stabbed his own pie. God watched as he lifted the pie, and shoved it in his mouth. She was sure to note the precise movements of his hand which kept the insides of the dish from spilling out and off of his fork. Then, she replicated said motions and gently placed the crumbling dessert on her tongue.

As she slowly chewed, she understood why Dean would speak so highly of the food. Warmth spread through her as the crust crumbled and clumped in her mouth, and a jelly-like substance mingled with it. Warm slices of apple sat in the middle of it all, though they did not taste exactly as they had when she had first tried an apple. These were a bit more... spicy.

"Dean Winchester," God said, causing Dean to look away from his plate and up at her. "We must eat pie more often."


	19. Dying

**God gets upset when Castiel asks her if she's dying...**

* * *

Castiel and God sat upon the same building in New York as they had many times before. When Sam and Dean sent them away, claiming to require 'heaven-free time', the two went there. Only rarely did they talk. They both enjoyed just watching humanity, especially God.

However, today was different than all the others. Castiel had a question. It had been stewing in his mind for many days, and he'd been very careful to only ponder it while God slept.

He'd noticed some odd behavior in God. Some days, her eyes were bloodshot and she was quiet. Others, she appeared to be hiding even her miniscule emotions. She was normally so apt to offer questions and advice, but she'd been relatively silent for the past few days.

Castiel glanced at her. Today was one of those days. Her eyes were heavily lidded, and she looked tired. Her golden orbs didn't shine like they normally did.

"You are concerned," she uttered, her view focused on the city. It had not been a question.

Castiel nodded. "I am."

Her jaw clenched, and her throat jerked as she swallowed heavily. "You should not be."

"You're lying."

Her eyes flashed to him, flaring with anger. He had seen her exhibit many emotions – happiness, sadness, pain – but anger was something he'd thought her incapable of. It marred her wisdom and brilliance greatly.

She glared at him. "I am God. My lies become the truth," She growled, her voice laced with malice.

They stared at each other for several moments. God's anger did not waver nor fade. Castiel was taking a moment to assess the situation, to ask himself whether or not to continue.

"Are you dying?" he asked, his vessel's blue eyes piercing God's golden ones. He did not think it wise to push the matter, but his time with the humans had taught him that pushing boundaries was a rewarding business.

In the blink of an eye, God scowled and disappeared. Castiel could follow her, and he did. He experienced surprise when he found himself at the back of the church he'd shown her.

She was seated in the middle of the room, staring at the cross along the back wall. The setting sun shone through the stained-glass windows, and cast strange colors across both one side of God's face and the benches around her. The anger had disappeared from her features.

"You told me the humans come here seeking sanctuary," she murmured, continuing to stare at the cross. "May I seek sanctuary as well, Castiel?"

Carefully, he trod across the length of the large room and sat beside her. He did not answer her question, for she already knew what he would say. Instead, he closed his eyes and prayed. God watched him with affection, and eventually closed her eyes and did the same. She did not pray to God, obviously, but found herself speaking to her three warriors: Castiel, Samuel, and Dean.


	20. Life

**Sam watches God give life...**

* * *

Dean was pitifully slow when it came to lock-picking. Sam had always felt that way. Of course, he found the task simple enough, and could manage it in a few moments. He often wanted to push his brother away and do it, but he figured that the only way Dean would be able to get better is if he got some practice.

So, bored out of his mind, Sam waited patiently as his brother picked the lock of some guy's back door. His arms were folded across his broad chest, and his foot tapped anxiously. He looked away from his brother, unable to bear watching anymore, and instead rolled his green eyes to God.

God was also bored. She wasn't one to get impatient, though, so she sat quietly on one of the damp, creaky, wooden steps that led to the small threshold.

Sam watched curiously as she reached out and gently stroked the leaves of a long dead flower.

At this point, he'd seen God perform many amazing tasks. She'd convinced a woman not to commit suicide, and brought a young man out of his coma. This, though, was beyond beautiful. It contradicted everything Sam had ever learned.

_What's dead should stay dead._

Slowly, the wilting flower revived. Its brown stem grew to a bright green, the leaves following it momentarily. The petals had all fallen, and those that sat in the soil of the pot remained brown. However, new petals magically sprung, blooming gracefully within seconds. Only when the flower stood tall and proud did God release the leaf and lean back to admire its subtle beauty.


	21. Coffee

**Dean and God discuss her behavior over coffee...**

* * *

Though he would never admit it, Dean was worried. For the past several days, God had been quiet. He was so used to her asking questions, or making really weird statements about life, but she'd been relatively silent. He'd go so far as to say she was acting almost as if she were soulless. He'd also seen Castiel glance at her with a surprising amount of emotion on his face. However, that emotion was _not_ one Dean was hoping to see.

Castiel and Sam had left earlier that morning. Dean, who had been shot the day before, had complained when both of them had told him to stay and babysit God. She hadn't even looked up from the table that she'd been sitting at.

So, Dean stood, awkwardly watching God stare with a vacant look in her eyes.

"You, like, um… want some coffee, or something?" Dean asked, clearing his throat.

God blinked slowly, and then shifted to stare at him. "What is coffee?"

Dean was surprised (and a bit freaked out; that was creepy move, even for God). He'd figured that Sam would've introduced her to the drink he'd never particularly enjoyed unless it had been sweetened with whiskey.

"Oh, um, well, it's this," he mumbled as he crossed the small, dirty kitchen of the motel room and grabbed the black handle of the coffee pot. He turned and grabbed a mug that was sitting in the sink, pouring a generous amount of the dark liquid into it before handing it to God.

Tentatively, she grabbed the handle of the mug and watched the liquid swirl. After examining the drink for a few moments, she slowly raised it to her lips and took a gulp. It was warm as it tumbled down her throat, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste. She felt the warmth hit her stomach, and stared at the cup with a blank face.

"So…?" Dean asked, tucking his hands in his pockets.

God raised the mug and took another large gulp, wiping her lips on the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

"I believe coffee and pie would go well together."

Dean allowed himself a small smile, and went to sit in the empty chair across from her. For a moment, God had seemed like her old self.

"You're God, and it's probably not smart for me to ask, but when have I ever given a damn about what's smart?" Dean started, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward, watching as God downed the last of her coffee. "Are you okay? I mean, you've been kinda weird lately."

God stared at him for a moment, and then shifted to gaze into her empty cup. "No, Dean, I am not okay…"

For the second time in the last five minutes, Dean was shocked. He'd expected her to say she was fine, and then he would argue and eventually get the truth out of her… Oh, he was watching way too much TV.

For several moments, he waited for her to continue, but she never did. She simply stared into her empty mug, her eyes dark and heavily lidded.

"Well, what's wrong, then?" Dean asked, a bit of frustration showing in his voice.

God stared into her mug a moment more, and then raised her head.

"May I have more coffee?" she asked, a small smile on her face as she held the mug out to him with both of her small hands.

Dean stared into her eyes, contemplating whether or not to continue questioning her. Something in her golden eyes told him not to - screamed at him to stop, because it caused her too much pain to even think about the knowledge he sought. That was what stopped him.

"Yeah, sure."


	22. Drunk

**Castiel worries about God when she randomly disappears...**

* * *

Castiel was worried. He understood that God could handle herself, but that did not stop the human-like nervousness that her long absence created. It might have been easier for him to handle if he'd known where she was, but she had disappeared without sharing that knowledge with any of the three men.

"Cas, unknot your panties!" Dean called from the bathroom, where he was shaving for the first time in weeks. "This is _God_ we're talking about. If she can't handle herself, who can?"

Castiel knew that Dean was correct, but that did nothing to help his irrational fear. He still worried incessantly about his creator.

Dean tromped out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He caught sight of Castiel's continued anxious look, and pulled the toothbrush out of his mouth. "Cas, if you're not gonna stop going all Mother Hen on her, then I _will_ take you to another strip joint."

Castiel glared at his charge, and then disappeared. Moments later, he found himself upon he and God's building in New York. He stared down at the city, praying that God would return soon.

* * *

Hours later, Castiel stood in the exact same place. He had not seen or heard from God, and his anxiety was on the rise. He'd even started pacing.

Then, at the back of his mind, he heard Dean's familiar call.

_Cas, get your feathery ass down here!_

Within a matter of seconds, Castiel had returned to the motel. The scene before him was… not what he'd been expecting. His mind had summoned the worst-case scenario and assumed that that's what would appear to him. He'd expected God to be bloody and dying. Instead, she was… quite the opposite.

God was sitting with her legs crossed on the edge of one of the two beds. She was holding Dean by his head, her fingers poking his defined jaw and cheek bones. She pulled him downwards slightly and smelled the top of his head.

Finally, she noticed Castiel's presence. "Oh, Castiel, I have created wonderful creatures, have I not?" she asked as she tugged at Dean's ears. She released Dean, who jerked away and took several steps in the other direction.

Castiel shot him a questioning look, but Dean only shook his head.

"I'm experiencing something wonderful, Castiel," God giggled as she got to her feet and stumbled towards him. She tripped on her own feet, and Castiel reached out to stop her from hitting the ground. She looked down at her feet and bit her lip. "Several of my appendages seem to have stopped functioning correctly."

"You know, for how hammered she is, her speech is surprisingly fluent," Sam offered.

God grinned. "Why, thank you, Samuel."

Castiel's brow furrowed over his blue eyes. "You have been drinking?"

God nodded enthusiastically.

"How much?"

"Um…" God looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Ireland, I believe."

"Wait, you drank all of the alcohol in Ireland?" Dean asked with a wide smile. "Oh, you heavenly beings and your tolerance for liquor."

God pushed herself away from Castiel's hold and held up her hands defensively. "I hear your thoughts, Castiel, but allow me to explain before you accuse me of sinning against myself," she said, struggling to keep herself upright. "I simply wished to experience what I have heard many humans say is a release of one from one's self."

And, with that, God fell forward. Castiel once more rushed to snatch her out of the air, and then gently dropped her onto one of the beds. Her eyes were closed, and there was a smile on her face.

Dean snickered. "She's gonna have one hell of a hangover when she wakes up."

* * *

"Castiel, why does my head feel like it will explode momentarily?"

Sam sighed. "I'll go buy a couple bottles of painkillers…"


	23. Smite

**God unleashes her wrath on a gang of bikers...**

* * *

God was having a particularly rough day. It had all started with a nightmare. She'd watched her brothers and sisters descend upon the Earth, destroying everything and everyone in their path. Her angels had fought and died, and then her humans attacked viciously, easily being wiped from existence. She had been forced to watch it all, unable to save any of them. And – once all the damage had been done – she'd walked through the field of her dead children, only to find Samuel, Dean, and Castiel at the middle.

As the day had progressed, nothing good had come. Samuel had almost died once more, and God had been forced to appear and get him away from the situation. Not to mention that her impending death was affecting her much more than it normally did.

The group was in a city this week. God liked cities. She enjoyed the fact that she could gaze upon such a large amount of her children at once. It was the opportune place to learn to understand her most confusing creation. Of course, it reminded her that they weren't perfect when she bumped into the few who were incredibly unpleasant. They normally didn't bother her, though. Of course, today wasn't normal by any means.

"Oh, get that stick out of your ass!" Dean roughly patted God's back after she'd ignored multiple questions and comments.

God's nose twitched in discontentment, but said nothing as she continued down the sidewalk.

Castiel walked beside her. He knew well enough that she was not in the mood to be harassed, and thought it best to allow her to stew in her mind. He remained by her side, though, in case her mood brightened.

Eventually, the group found what they'd been searching for. There was a small dinner a few blocks from their motel, one they had been inquiring after for quite some time. They quickly filed inside as had become accustomed. Dean was the first to throw himself into a booth. Samuel sat beside him, and Castiel across, God left to seat herself beside the angel.

After several moments, a cheery young waitress appeared at the head of the table. She giddily asked what everyone would have, and the two brothers ordered their customary meals. Castiel, as he always did, ordered nothing. It was odd, though, that God should do the same. She enjoyed eating the meals of her children. This strange behavior did nothing but add to Castiel's ever-growing concern.

* * *

"Where the hell could she have gone?" Dean grumbled, peeking his head into a dark alley.

Sam sighed. "She's God, she could be anywhere."

The brothers searched for a few more moments, but then stopped when they heard the gentle flutter of wings behind them.

"She's not at the motel," Castiel muttered, looking between the two. He'd also checked the building in New York he and God often visited, but figured he could keep that to himself.

"How the hell are we gonna find her?" Dean growled.

"Dean, calm down," Sam tried to calm his brother.

The two started arguing, and Castiel watched with growing boredom. He was going through a list of places she could be in his head. He'd already searched all of the obvious ones. Although he felt he knew her, he did not know where to look.

A sudden shout made all three of the men turn and look at an alley across the road.

They all took off, running towards where the shout had come from. They were nearly certain that they wouldn't find God there, but none could ignore it. In only a few moments, they were staring at the last thing they'd expected to see.

There was a pile of bodies, all of them male. They were relieved to see no blood, but that did nothing to clear their shock. God stood at the center, her hands balled into tight fists at her side. A teenage boy was curled up against the brick wall in front of her, staring with wide, fearful eyes.

"Go," God growled at the boy. He scrambled to his feet and hurried quickly away.

"Don't just stand there, run!" the boy shouted as he tripped on his own feet, and then sprinted past the three.

God turned to her friends, and Castiel felt his concern jump. Her pale face was flushed, and the muscles in her jaw were pulled taut. Her eyes were red.

Her eyes caught Castiel's, and she sighed. "They have sinned," she turned her eyes to the pile of bodies around her feet. "They have killed, and they are no longer my children." Her eyes connected with Castiel's once more, and he saw the fear hidden beneath the false righteousness. However, he could not tell if it was fear of her children, fear of herself and what she had done, or fear of the death he knew was approaching quickly.


	24. Brother

**God's brother brings a message from their father...**

* * *

Samuel and Dean were arguing in the front seat. Castiel followed the heated conversation not out of curiosity as the brothers constantly argued about trivial matters, but out of boredom. God, of course, had tuned it out within moments of its sudden occurrence, and instead focused on the hum of the vehicle beneath her and the view of trees racing past the pane of glass to her immediate left.

She had tuned out all of the noise in order to allow her mind to wander. Sadly, her mind wandered in a direction she had hoped it would forget about; she thought about her approaching death. She had weeks, now. Only weeks. She'd prayed, but to whom could she really pray to? Her father would not listen, and all other beings on Earth prayed to either her or her angels. She was left to begin the countdown. She felt her strength leaving her body, disappearing increasingly quickly as one day became another. Part of her just wanted it to end. Of course –

"What the-?"

The car came to a sudden stop, the rubber tires squealing on the pavement of the two-lane road. God and Castiel jerked forward in their seats, their eyes flying to look past Samuel and Dean's shoulders and out the front window.

God's heart constricted as the thing that had stopped the vehicle came into vision.

Within seconds, she'd thrown her door open and gotten out, strongly proceeding towards the front of the car. The three remaining soon followed, raising their heads just in time to see God come to a stop mere feet in front of the Impala, now turned slightly to the left.

"Sister…"

Three pairs of confused eyes shifted to the figure in the middle of the road. Sam and Dean had already seen it, but Castiel was only setting his eyes upon it for the first time.

It was a man. He was tall, not quite as tall as Sam, but Sam towered over everyone. His skin was pale, just as God's was, and his golden eyes contrasted with it severely. His appearance was strikingly similar to God's. However, there were differences. Where God's lips were full, this man's were thin and red, as if they were chapped. Their hair was different colors, as well. God's was dark and fell down her shoulders in tumbling curls, but this man had short, straight blond locks. He wore the same sort of tunic that God had when she'd first appeared.

"Leave," God commanded, her eyes narrowing.

The man's sharp lips curled at one corner. "Oh, sister, you are not pleased to see me?"

"I said…" she growled. "Leave."

"Sister-"

"No, Prace, I am _not_ your sister, nor are you my brother."

Castiel watched curiously as this man named Prace stepped forward, watching carefully as he set his feet upon the pavement once more.

"This is a beautiful world you have created," he looked around, his eyes examining the trees and shrubbery. "It is a shame you had to fill it with such hateful, violent creatures."

"You are not welcome to walk among them, now go!"

"You are adopting their habits, sister," Prace teased.

God snarled, the sound echoing through her chest.

Prace sighed. "Calm your nerves, and allow me to speak the message father sent me to give."

God was silent, staring at her brother through narrowed eyes. Her tensed shoulders did not relax. Castiel, standing in the same spot beside the Impala's open door, watched with concern. If God was tense, all of humanity should be.

"Fine, do not my words to heart, but at least hear them," Prace cleared his throat. "Father wishes to extend you an invitation to return to the Fields of Glory."

"Father would never do such a thing."

"He recognizes your coming death – and though he frowns upon these…" his eyes shifted to Sam and Dean. "Though he frowns upon these monstrosities, he does not wish one of his most talented children to die alone."

"Hey!" Dean shouted, obviously offended.

Prace's hand rose to him, and Dean's eyes bulged out of his skull. His hands flew to his neck. He started scratching and coughing.

"Prace, enough!"

All eyes were suddenly back on God, who stood directly in front of her brother. Her hands knotted in his tunic, and she easily pulled him down to her height. Prace seemed stunned, and stared at her with disbelief in his eyes.

"These are my children, and they will not allow me to die alone," God growled, her fists clenching even tighter on the white cloth. "Now leave, before I destroy your body and skin your soul."

Prace reached up to grab his sister's wrists. "Father will not be pleased."

"Father is _never_ pleased."

And then Prace disappeared, the only sign that he had ever been there being the skid marks on the road. Castiel hurried to God's side. He did not reach out and try to touch her to offer comfort, but knew that simply being by her side would aid her greatly. He was pleased when she reached out and gripped the sleeve of his overcoat tightly.

"Is Dean alright?" she asked in a shaky whisper.

Castiel glanced over his shoulder. Dean was leaning against the hood of the Impala, rubbing his neck. He nodded at Castiel, who then turned back to God. "He is alright."

She nodded, and then sighed. "Good…" She smiled up at him weakly. "Let us leave; I am in desperate need of sleep."

Castiel turned to Dean once more. "We will meet you at the motel in town," he uttered loud enough for Dean to hear over the expanse. Dean nodded in agreement, and then God and Castiel disappeared from view.


	25. Death

**God dies, but not before she speaks to her chosen children...**

* * *

Castiel knew exactly what was happening. Sam and Dean were confused, but Castiel understood. He realized that he should've told them, but that would mean accepting what had been set in motion. He would not, could not, give in until there was no other choice.

As Dean and Sam scrambled, the both of them doing research and making calls, Castiel stayed by God's bedside. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was stable, but Castiel knew that she wasn't sleeping. She hadn't been since she'd woken from unconsciousness days ago. She was awake, and listening to everything going on around her.

Castiel also knew that her life was fading quickly. Dean and Sam were human, and therefore could not feel the brilliance and strength that had always hung in the air around her disappearing. But Castiel knew. He also knew that she knew.

Suddenly, her eyes opened. They shifted to Castiel, and he felt anguish overtake him. The once brilliant, golden orbs were now dark.

"It has come…" she mumbled.

Surprisingly, Dean and Sam had heard and rushed to her side, both of their faces bearing looks of fear and confusion.

The room became cold, but not physically. The aura in the air was chilled. God seemed to calm slightly, attempting to take a deep breath.

"Death," she muttered, blinking slowly and staring up at the ceiling.

"God…"

The three men spun on their heels to see a sickly looking figure. All three of them recognized the gaunt face and stick-like form. Before them stood Death, Horseman and father of all Reapers. Dean and Sam had hoped to never run into him again.

"The time has come, my friend," Death uttered, spinning the ring on his finger.

God's head slowly inclined, her chin pressing against her collar bone. "May I have private final words with my chosen children?"

Death contemplated this.

"I shall wait in the hallway."

"Thank you," God sighed appreciatively as Death paced to the door and let himself out for a few moments. Then, God's eyes shifted to the three men once more. "And thank you, my sons."

"He wasn't lying, then?" Dean asked, his jaw set angrily. Despite the fact that he'd once been very angry with the being before him, he'd grown attached. In a way, Dean's relationship with God was similar to that of his relationship with Castiel.

"I'm afraid not," she answered, knowing that he was speaking of Death telling him that the Horseman would one day reap the Creator of All.

"But," Sam stammered, the confusion still marring his boyish features. "You… You're _God_. You can't just _die_!"

"Everything dies, Samuel."

The finality in God's voice ended Sam's rambles. Castiel could've sworn he heard anger in the retort, as well.

"Samuel, Dean, if I may speak to Castiel alone?" God asked as her eyes flicked to the door, and then between the two brothers' faces. They nodded, and then filed out of the room. This left God and Castiel alone.

After several moments of silence, Castiel spoke.

"Heaven will be distraught," he mumbled, feeling his gut heave as he experienced the emotion sadness.

God's lips tugged up at the corners, attempting to smile. "Kneel, Castiel," she commanded kindly.

Castiel did as he was told.

Shakily, God raised her hand and set it atop his vessel's head, her thin, frail fingers lacing through his black hair. Her head rolled, and her dark eyes bore into his blue ones.

"You have my blessing, Castiel, for the rest of eternity."

"I do not understand," he muttered, the same sort of confusion Sam had exhibited now showing on his face.

"This world cannot go without a leader; it requires some form of authority," she explained, her eyes continuing to trap his.

"I do not believe your choice to be a wise one-"

"Castiel, do you believe your past attempt to do my work a mistake?"

Castiel nodded. He remembered that time with pain throbbing throughout his being. He did not deserve the lack of retribution and forgiveness many had given him.

"Do not be fooled into thinking that none of your brothers or sisters would have done differently when placed in your situation, Castiel. Given the chance, they would simply make the mistake you have already made. Therefore, you are the only one who will not."

Castiel found that when God explained, he understood.

"Who is to say that I will not make it again?" Castiel asked.

God's eyes flashed dangerously. "I am."

Castiel felt God's cold fingers press against his vessel's scalp. It was a gentle motion.

"I trust you, Castiel, to watch over my creations," her voice was quiet, but still held an air of authority. Castiel doubted that he would ever be as incandescent as she. "Serve me well, my son."

The air chilled once more, and Castiel turned to find Death standing beside him. God removed her hand from his head, and set it gently back at her side before staring into Death's own dark eyes. His frail hand raised from his side, and he held it out to God, waiting for her to take it.

Castiel closed his eyes as God moved to accept the hand. For several moments, he refused to open them. Even when the cold faded and warmth returned, he kept his eyes clamped shut. Only when he heard the door open and Dean start mumbling to himself did Castiel move to view God's lifeless body.

But there was no body.

There were no signs that God had ever even been there.


	26. Heaven

**Castiel finds someone he had not expected in Heaven...**

* * *

Castiel had been in Heaven for the majority of his life. He'd flitted from one of the human's paradise to the next, enjoying all of them (except for one where it was constantly raining). He'd spent much of his time in the Garden, which was a large area where most angels chose to reside. It was beautiful and, even though he did not consider Heaven his home anymore, it would always hold a special place in his heart.

However, the view he had _now_ was even more fantastic. He held God's many responsibilities and powers, but that also left him with her luxuries. He now found himself spending his time above Heaven, in a place where no one else could venture unless he asked them to. It was his, and that was a sensation he had not yet experienced.

One day, while sitting and admiring his new dwellings, Castiel found himself suddenly somewhere else. He now stood atop a familiar building. The breeze gently blew through his vessel's growing hair, brushing the flaps and folds of his trench coat out. Something was different, though. The lights of the city below remained, but the sound that accompanied them was mysteriously missing.

"Castiel…"

He spun on his heel. That voice was as easily recognizable as the sound of his own wings flapping.

"God?" Castiel asked, his eyes, now blue with golden flecked strangely throughout, wide with shock.

God smiled, her dark eyes flashing. Castiel had hoped that they would be the brilliant gold they once had.

"It is nice to see you once more, my son."

Castiel took a cautious step towards her. "You are-"

"Dead, yes. I am not living, Castiel, simply existing."

"Existing?"

God grinned, "Did you think humans were the only ones allowed to exist in salvation once they have died?"

"Heaven is for angels and passed humans," Castiel started, his eyes wary. "I believe you are neither."

Once more, God grinned.

"I created Heaven, Castiel, I am allowed within it if I choose," she said as amusement flashed behind her dark irises. "You have done well so far, Castiel. I am very proud."

As always, Castiel felt his heart swell as her compliments.

"Thank you."

The pair stood silently for several long moments. Castiel watched God, and God watched the city. A question was brewing in his mind as he scoured her face, remembering when she had been alive. They had many adventures together, and Castiel had not and would not forget them.

"I may be dead, but I can still see your mind, Castiel."

He sighed, "Why have you brought me here? I do not believe it was simply to say hello."

"Why do you not believe that, Castiel?" she asked, her head tilting to the side much as Castiel's did when he did not understand something. "Why must every action have a reason?"

"That is how the world works," he shrugged.

Another small smile came to God's face.

"I simply wished to make sure you were not overwhelmed, Castiel," she uttered, the smile faltering slightly. "I understand that you now bear many… duties."

"I am fine," he assured.

"Your brothers and sisters are not to know that I am here, my son. I prefer solitude over noise."

Castiel nodded.

"Do not be afraid to visit, Castiel. I do get lonely on occasion."

Once more, Castiel nodded. God flashed him one more smile, and then he found himself back in his new home. God's visage was still clear in his mind. He had been missing her, and was thankful that he could now see her when he wished. She would not fade.


End file.
